


Denial

by cassyblue



Category: Imperial Radch Series - Ann Leckie, Star Trek
Genre: F/F, Star Trek AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 14:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12170958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassyblue/pseuds/cassyblue
Summary: When Commander Breq Esk accepts a new posting on Aethok Station she discovers an old acquaintance. Star Trek Au ft. Trill!Breq & Shitty Vulcan!Seivarden.





	Denial

Security had called me with questions about a person they detained on the station promenade. Apparently this person had been loitering, a nicer term for sleeping in the station’s shopping area with a bottle of Romulan ale clutched in hand. It was a new assignment that I had not wanted to come to Aethok Station. Admiral Mianaai had assigned me and I reluctantly took the position. Fuck the Admiral. Nothing good comes of her and her meddlesome cousins. She was the one that got my previous commander killed. But that was a host ago. 

I arrive in the security office. The officer escorts me to the detaining area. A familiar face stares at me with a scowl. That woman. That vulcan. I know her. Well not I. The symbiont does. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not the Esk that shook her hand over negotiations between Trill and Vulcan. I highly doubt she remembers who I am. For a vulcan, she sure is a sore sight to see. Her name, Seivarden, is one I haven’t forgotten. She was highly unpleasant to deal with. Not that, she saw it that way or that I had given that indication. Her formerly neatly symmetrical hair has grown into a snarl of dark curls that frame her angular face in dark cloud. Her eyes are red and her clothes are neither free of wrinkle or pristine. 

“Vulcan would like her back.” The security officer says, “But she says she wants to claim asylum.”

I massage my forehead. I had heard rumors of an ancient Vulcan being rescued from a stasis pod. But not that it was the former diplomat Seivarden. Is this why Admiral Mianaai sent me out to this station. She knew. Of course she damn knew. The asshole has eyes everywhere. She probably thought herself clever for sending Breq Esk, the Trill who had worked to ensure good relations with Vulcan. I don’t want anything to do with Seivarden even if she’s become a sad sight and was found blacked out with a romulan ale. I owe her nothing. After all I, well, not this host but the Esk symbiont did not like her. I didn’t like her. 

“Commander Esk?” The security officer asks as silence descends. 

I sigh, “She can stay, but I will need to discuss this with Admiral Mianaai. And seeing as she did nothing but drunken disorder, please release her to her quarters.”

“I don’t have damn quarters.” Seivarden snaps. She had been listening with an angled brow furrowed. 

Seivarden, from my memories was always volatile for a Vulcan. But this. Well, is beyond normal Vulcan behavior. 

“I will arrange for you to receive quarters.” I say, “You need a sonic shower at the least.”

“Fuck you.” Seivarden spits before muttering something under her breath in Vulcan that the universal translator did not pick up.

“Don’t expect help if you’re going to be like that, Ms. Seivarden.” I would rather not have to deal with this. I don’t like her. That hasn’t changed in the years and the hosts. 

“Help? They tried to help me? They fucked me up worse, Commander. All I’m asking is to not be forced to go back and be treated like a fucking national treasure and paraded around like a museum specimen.” 

“Your request has been noted.” I turn on my heel. I should stay to ask her what she meant. It is unnerving to hear a Vulcan swear that much. Something is worrying about her. I don’t like her. Why should I care what happens to Seivarden outside of what it means with me having to interact with the damned Admiral. 

***

“I knew a Trill called Esk.” Seivarden sits hunched with a raktajino. She crinkles her face. For a Vulcan she is expressive. More expressive than what is acceptable. She had always never been good at toeing the line with her emotions. She takes a sip of the raktajino, “Surak’s brows! This is nasty shit. How do you drink it?”

“Acquired taste.” I say looking into my own raktajino. A prior host had enjoyed it and every now and then I get a craving for it although later I get a headache. “I believe that Trill was one of my previous hosts.”

“You have her scowl.” Seivarden says, “I thought you were familiar and it odd for a Trill to take interest in my well being outside of the asylum request. Thank you for working to get it approved. I really appreciate it.”

My hands curl around the warm cup. I shouldn’t really care what Seivarden thinks. Remember, I dislike her. But she is endearing now that we are not working professionally. And after all, I am a different Esk. I am Breq Esk who may have the memories and experiences of Toren Esk. I am my own person and can feel differently. But I still don’t understand why I’m drawn to her. Perhaps it is because it can be nice to have a friend who understands change of time and customs. It can be isolating being the only Trill on board, not to mention a joined Trill. 

“I do appreciate it,” Seivarden says, “It's nice to know that someone remembers what it used to be like. It can be so damn frustrating to reach for something but then remember the interfaces have changed or that it's not something that’s true anymore.”

“I’m sure it is frustrating. How are the meditation practices going? Medic asked me for some advice on things since I had known you.”

Seivarden’s face darkens. “Emotion is something my people say I should control.”

I decide not to press it further. Our conversation returns to more lighter topics. Seivarden seems pleased that we met. There’s a smile on her face. Her hand moves to push back her curls. She still hasn’t cut her hair or tempted to refine it into Vulcan fashion. But it's not a rats nest anymore. She’s taking better care of herself. I’m glad. Maybe her recovery isn’t quite what the Vulcans consider recovery. She finishes the raktajino despite having called it nasty. 

“I would like to talk again, Commander Esk.” She says before leaving, “This was nice.”

I nod. I find myself wanting to meet her with her again. She stands straighter than before. Her face starts to settle into the mask that I’ve seen her wear around the station. The one that Lieutenant Mercy calls her shield face. 

***  
Seivarden unfolds the soft black fabric from around an instrument, “She looks up. I heard that you enjoy music, Breq.”

So we are now on no title, first name basis. But it is after all in my quarters. I had invited her to dine with me. She arrived with her hair pinned up into a chignon held in place with an enamel symmetrical design clip. The fabric package had been intriguing but I didn’t ask what it was that she had tucked under her arm. 

“You heard right,” I say. “Although I am not much of a musician myself.”

Seivarden holds up a Vulcan lute, “My mother had me take lessons as a child. I didn’t much enjoy them. But after everything, I found the lute to be something soothing. It hasn’t changed that much.”

“It’s beautiful.” I say. I’ve seen this instrument before. I’ve attended several performances. But Seivarden’s has been embellished with wood burned flowers. I recognize some of the more common Aethoki species but there are also Vulcan flowers. 

Seivarden nods, “Thank you. Ettan offered to decorate it. I agreed since I’m grateful for her letting me help at the tea shop.” 

I watch as Seivarden starts to pluck a few strings, gently tuning the lute. She taps her foot softly as she starts to play. I know this particular song. It was one that my music appreciation class had covered. It’s been long time since I took it. But I remember it. My professor had said that he wasn’t going to play it all because there was over 300 verses. It was the one Vulcan song that we did study. Seivarden’s eyes close for a moment. I think I see a tear. But I’m not sure. 

Her fingers move up and down the strings flexing almost expertly. It’s hard to believe that she only took lessons as a child. Her fingers dance elegantly as she plays. I lean towards her, wanting to soak up the rest of the music, to admire Seivarden as she plays. She seems at peace for once. She doesn’t hunch. She doesn’t scowl. Her eyes aren’t sad. 

I softly start to hum. Seivarden’s lips twitch into a slight smile. Her eyes open. She's fixated on me as she plays. It is an invitation. I open my mouth and sing.

“Through storms he crossed the Voroth Sea  
To reach the clouded shores of Raal  
Where old T'Para offered truth.  
He traveled through the windswept hills  
And crossed the barren Fire Plains  
To find the silent monks of Kir.  
Still unfulfilled, he journeyed home  
Told stories of the lessons learned  
And gained true wisdom by the giving.”

Seivarden stops playing as I finish. She raises an eyebrow, “You said you weren’t much of a musician, Breq.”

“My voice is horrible. Sometimes I think they chose me to annoy Esk because I like to sing but sound terrible.”

Seivarden reaches over and puts a hand on my knee, “I think it’s lovely. And Esk must not mind that much. I’m sure your symbiont is happy to have a host that loves to sing. I remember Toren enjoyed music as well. It seems to be a thread no?”

“I suppose.” I reply feeling warm inside. Seivarden seems to know the right things to say on the way occassion. 

Seivarden rises with the lute. She tilts her head for a moment as she starts to play a few notes. She says softly, “Ettan offered to teach me a song. I thought you may like it. It’s not for Vulcan lute, but she gave me the music.”

Seivarden starts to play the first few notes. I also know this one. I start to sing, “My heart is a fish-”

Seivarden joins in. She sits so close to me as she plays. Her shoulder touching mine. Her voice is worse than mine, slightly off tune and cracking at certain points. But I don’t notice as I sing with her. “Hiding in the water-grass. In the green, in the green.”

She laughs at the end. It’s a joyous sound. Sometimes I’m happy that she expresses her emotions around me. I see her in a different light. She is vulcan. But she has invited me to see inside her, too see what she can’t hold in her.

Then she takes my hand. “Thank you.” 

She rests her head on the crook of my shoulder. The tears start to come. I wrap my arms around her. The lute is nestled between us almost like a barrier. She presses her forehead against mine. I am not Toren. I am Breq. And I like Seivarden. I can’t deny it anymore as she gently kisses my cheek in an undecidedly not Vulcan fashion.

**Author's Note:**

> It's ooc. The first song is Falor's Journey from Voyager: http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Falor%27s_Journey


End file.
